The tartan fashion police in action: Wives and Daughters

“… For high days and holidays – by which was understood afternoons and Sundays – Miss Rose persuaded her to order a gay-coloured, flimsy plaid silk, which she assured her was quite the latest fashion in London, and which Molly thought would please her father’s Scotch blood. But when he saw the scrap which she had brought home as a pattern, he cried out that the plaid belonged to no clan in existence, and that Molly ought to have known this by instinct.It was too late to change it, however, for Miss Rose had promised to cut the dress out as soon as Molly had left her shop.

[Molly needs her new frock to go visiting, and worries ‘that her silk was not a true clan-tartan’ and that it won’t turn up on time. And it doesn’t. Dinner on the first night:]

‘I am afraid they expect me to be very smart’ she kept thinking to herself. ‘If they do, they’ll be disappointed; that’s all. But I wish my plaid silk gown had been ready.’

[It finally arrives, described by Mrs Gaskell as ‘the terrible, over-smart plaid gown.’ LaterMolly is going to meet her new stepmother.]

Mrs Hamley wanted Molly to make a favourable impression, and she sent for her to come and show herself before she set out.

‘Still, I think your white muslin suits you the best.’ ‘Anything but that horrid plaid silk’ was the thought in Mrs Hamley’s mind; and, thanks to her, Molly set off for the Towers, looking a little quaint, it is true, but thoroughly ladylike, if she was old-fashioned."

the picture:

Observations:

The tartan theme – however inauthentic – is to mark 25th January as Burns’ Night. Wives and Daughters is one of the finest of 19th Century English novels, much under-rated, and has some very modern ideas in it. How bad is the dress meant to be? Well, Mrs Hamley we might trust, but Dr Gibson (Molly’s father) is shown throughout the book to be a kindly, well-meaning, clever man, a wonderful doctor – but to have very bad judgement. One of the themes of the book is that parents may well not know what is good for their children, and that that is just the way it is. The theme is pursued in a most un-Victorian manner, particularly in the relationship between Cynthia (Molly’s new stepsister) and her mother.And in fact a tartan/plaid dress, as the child above knows, is a splendid addition to anyone’s wardrobe.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular Posts

She took a cigarette herself and let the stranger light it for her. She was a small woman of thirty-five, slender, neat and unobtrusive, with brown crisply curling hair that was parted in the middle and drawn back into a tight little knot. She had gentle brown eyes and small fine features. Her skin, naturally fair, had the biscuity tinge and the reddening on the cheekbones that comes from spending a great deal of time, all the year round, out of doors. She was wearing a green and red tartan skirt and red woollen jumper. “The rent,” she said, looking out of the window as she said it, finding it too hard to meet the man’s eyes when she spoke of money, “is four guineas a week.” He nodded, as if he knew this.

[The mid-1930s: Gerald Durrell and his family - his widowed mother, 2 older brothers and a sister - have moved to Corfu]

For some time Mother had greatly envied us our swimming, both in the daytime and at night, but, as she pointed out when we suggested she join us, she was far too old for that sort of thing. Eventually, however, under constant pressure from us, Mother paid a visit into town and returned to the villa coyly bearing a mysterious parcel. Opening this she astonished us all by holding up an extraordinary shapeless garment of black cloth, covered from top to bottom with hundreds of frills and pleats and tucks.

'Well, what d'you think of it?' Mother asked.

We stared at the odd garment and wondered what it was for.

'What is it?' asked Larry at length.

'It's a bathing-costume, of course,' said Mother. 'What on earth did you think it was?’

. Noel Streatfeild/Susan Scarlett’s Pirouette, on the blog on Friday, is about the older lives of young women at ballet school. It’s a book aimed at adults, but it took me back to the stories I read as a young adult: Streatfeild’s books were my favourites, but there wasn’t an endless supply, so I read others, such as the one below. I couldn’t remember the title or author, just had some shadowy idea that there was a mystery to be solved (aha! early attraction to crime fiction, the joy of my grown-up years) – and a memory of one very peculiar passage. I could recall it very clearly because it was so odd. A modest amount of rootling around on the internet gave me the title, and a second-hand copy was soon heading my way. I enjoyed reading it again, and was really pleased to find the passage – and to find it made no more sense now than it did then. I had no idea what the girls were doing with their silk legwear, the elastic and the penni…